


The Thalmor

by DarkxPrince



Series: Amidst the Shadows [7]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dunmer - Freeform, Gen, Thalmor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-10-02 00:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20453633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkxPrince/pseuds/DarkxPrince
Summary: Charlya needs to find out more information about the growing dragon menace, yet it seems that the only place to find such information - is the Thalmor Embassy. Charlya only wished the infiltration didn't require this divines damned dress.





	The Thalmor

Charlya wondered - not for the first time and certainly not the last - what in Azura’s name she had gotten herself into this time. It was times like these, that Charlya wished she could just return to her life of solitude and preying on bandits to drink their blood. She also wondered - idly and briefly - why it had to be  _ her _ that just  _ had _ to be some sort of ancient and prophesied hero who was destined to save the world. Really - why couldn’t the divines have chosen someone else to be  _ Dovahkiin _ . Seriously, any Nord who knew their legends would have jumped at the chance of being the almighty  _ Dragonborn _ . But no, it had to be  _ her _ \- a Dunmer vampire who really couldn’t have been bothered before now to really care about the goings on of Tamriel.

Well, at least she had allies … as much as one woman who claimed to be part of an ancient order could be called an ally, anyway. Delphine, her ally, claimed to be the sole survivor of an order known as the Blades, who were sworn to serve the Dragonborn, and who were - apparently - wiped out by the Thalmor. Delphine thought that the Thalmor had something to do with the return of the dragons, which seemed ridiculous to Charlya, to be truthful. As much as she disliked the Thalmor, she doubted any of them had the power to really bring the dragons back into existence. Outside of the massive black dragon Charlya had seen the day Helgen was attacked, and again later  _ actually witnessing _ the black dragon resurrecting another dragon … there really were no other leads. So, Charlya followed Delphine’s plan of sneaking into the Thalmor embassy in order to find either proof the Thalmor were behind everything … or their next lead.

Which brought Charlya to her current predicament. Apparently when Delphine said “sneak into” she meant pose as a party guest and meet up with her contact. So here she was, dressed in an entirely too tight dress with an entirely too deep neckline and trying to mingle with the party guests. She forced a smile - careful so as not to reveal her fangs - at the Altmer she was holding a conversation with, taking a sip from the wine goblet in her hand. She had to find Delphine’s contact, yet she couldn’t make it obvious so as not to draw attention to herself.

“Skyrim is such a bitter and barbaric place, wouldn’t you agree?” The Altmer, Ancano - as he introduced himself - commented.

“Truly,” Charlya murmured, taking another sip of wine, “To say nothing of the rebellious Nords who cling to their delusions and refuse to see the truth.” Charlya did her best to sound as repulsed and annoyed as she could. Which wasn’t as hard as she first thought. She really was annoyed at the Stormcloaks and their views and had very little patience for their bigotry. Not that the Altmer were much better with their own bigotry.

Ancano chuckled dryly, “Yes, those traitorous Nords will be put down like the dogs that they are soon enough. But enough about the war,” Ancano’s eyes rove over her body with either open suspicion or attraction, and Charlya forcibly restrained herself from reacting. “What brings you to this desperate and desolate place?”

“Telvanni business,” The lie slipped past Charlya’s lips without a second thought. “I’ve been stationed in Skyrim as emissary to the College of Winterhold.”

Ancano’s eyes narrowed, though not enough to make it obvious he didn’t believe her. “The Archmage of the College didn’t inform me of any such emissary.”

Charlya called on all of her self-control to keep her face impassive, she should have remembered that Ancano introduced himself as the Thalmor liaison to the College of Winterhold. She took another sip of her wine as casually as she could, forcing her body to relax. “He wouldn’t have known, I’ve only recently arrived from Morrowind.”

Whatever else Ancano might have said was interrupted by another Altmer joining them, “Ancano, what poor soul are you bothering now?”

“Ondolemar, always a pleasure to see you again,” by the tone of Ancano’s voice, Charlya knew it was anything but ‘pleasure’. He turned his attention back to Charlya, “May I introduce Ondolemar, head of the Justicars here in Skyrim.”

The newly introduced Ondolemar, inclined his head towards her, “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

Charlya inclined her own head, “A pleasure indeed.” Charlya paused in thought, if she was going to be in the middle of the mortal’s affairs from now on, maybe she could get some more information about the goings-on of Skyrim. Between staying alive and finding out she was Davahkiin, there had been no time to gather information about what was happening. And if she could also get more information about what the Thalmor were up to … all the better. “Forgive my asking, as I have only just arrived in Skyrim myself, but what do the Justicars hope to achieve here?”

Ondolemar studied her face, lingering a bit longer on her glowing gold eyes than Charlya felt comfortable, “To uphold the White-Gold Concordat and purge these lands of heresy.”

Charlya did her best to plaster a sneer on her face, “Yes, those stubborn Stormcloaks deserve to be put down like dogs.” In all truth, Charlya didn’t really care about the White-Gold Concordat or the ban of Talos worship the Thalmor seemed intent to enforce. She never really considered herself a religious person … the only person she worshipped was Azura, in part because everyone in her family did and in part because almost all Dunmer did as well. Besides, praying to the Lady of Dusk and Dawn and hoping to be brought to Moonshadow when she died was better than the alternative she faced. “Still,” Charlya added after a moment, “I’m sure if the Aldmeri Dominion really wanted to, it could swiftly end this farce of a civil war.”

Ondolemar chuckled, “It could, none certainly stand against our army, especially not barbaric Nords.”

Charlya took another sip of wine and trailed a hand down her chest, drawing Ondolemar’s gaze to that infernal neckline. If she had to be stuck in this divines damned dress maybe she could use it to her advantage. She called upon a small portion of her vampiric powers, maybe if she was careful she could force him to reveal everything. “And why haven’t you? Why hasn’t the Aldmeri Dominion marched their forces into Skyrim and put an end to the rebellious Nords?”

Ondolemar took several seconds to respond, and Charlya thought at first maybe he had sensed her use of magic or maybe his mind was stronger than she had thought. “It was decided to let the Empire deal with the civil war, the Thalmor are here only to observe and advise.”

Charlya bit back a groan, of course that’s what the Thalmor decided to do. It didn’t really surprise her, though, and it made perfect sense from a strategic standpoint. Let the humans deal with each other, let them weaken each other and then deal with the victor with minimal effort on the Aldmeri Dominion’s forces. Still, there had to be more to what the Thalmor were planning, maybe something about the dragons as well. Charlya summoned more of her vampiric powers, her eyes burning slightly brighter in response … someone bumped into her shattering her concentration. Charlya turned to glare down at the individual, finding one of the male Bosmer servants, _ “Create a diversion and meet me in the kitchens.” _ It was spoken so low Charlya had only heard it because of her vampiric senses. Well, that explained who Delphine’s contact was. So now she had to create a diversion? Wonderful, it always had to be her, didn’t it?

She excused herself from both Ancano and Ondolemar, claiming that she had to freshen up, and retreated into the relative safety of the shadows. At least now she could observe the other party members and see how best to make a distraction. Any other Altmer that were in attendance were out of the question, and many of the other servants would merely be overlooked … that left only a few other people Charlya might be able to force to make a diversion. She recognized both Jarl Ravencrone and Jarl Siddgeir from her brief travels through Falkreath and Morthal, yet she didn’t know them well enough to approach either of them. That left several others that Charlya could potentially approach and either goad or force to create a diversion. Her eyes gazed over the remaining party guests, finally stopping on one of the male nobles who was trying - and failing - to court one of the servant girls. Charlya smirked ever so slightly, he would be perfect.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?” The servant girl said as Charlya walked up to them.

“Not now, no. Later, don’t go far.” Charlya bit her tongue as she took a fresh wine goblet from the servant’s tray, drawing their attention to her. Her eyes blazed gold, Charlya could already tell it would be a waste of magicka to use her vampiric powers on this foolish mortal man … but she needed to guarantee he would do what she needed him to do. She sipped her wine to hide the smirk as she watched his eyes rove across her body - his gaze staying far too long on the deep neckline than was polite. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I’m Erikur, a Thane of Solitude.”

Charlya gave a small bow, making sure he got an even more eyeful of the exposed flesh of her chest, “A pleasure indeed. So what brings you to this party?” Charlya had been tempted just to use the power of her vampiric seduction to skip this part, but she didn’t want to draw too much attention as it was.

“As Thane, I have a stake in everything of importance within Solitude, and personally I believe it’s time to put grievances of the past aside.” He chuckled lightly, “Besides, it’s making me a ton of gold.”

Charlya stepped closer, her eyes still blazing gold and boring into Erikur’s own, “You sound like quite the businessman.”

Erikur continued to stare into her eyes, seemingly unable to stop himself from speaking. “Not all Nords care only about strength and honor. My investments are my strength and my wealth is my weapon.”

Charlya stepped even closer, placing the wine goblet upon the tray and waved the servant girl away. “Perhaps there’s something a talented Nord such as yourself could do for me.” Charlya placed a hand on Erikur’s arm, making sure to nearly press herself against the front of his body. “I would be eternally grateful and I’d reward you in anyway you want, if you would do me a small favor.”

From the glazed look in his eyes, and the near emotionless tone of voice when he said, “Yes, anything you desire,” Charlya knew that her hold over his mind was absolute. She leaned close to his ear and whispered her instructions, making sure to lace every word with a bit of magicka just to make sure he would do what she needed him to do.

Charlya stepped away and retreated back into the shadows even as Erikur headed in the opposite direction. She made sure everyone was watching Erikur and listening to him loudly proclaiming about having found true love, before making her way into the kitchens. Delphine’s contact was there just as he said, and he showed her to a chest that he had smuggled in. Within, Charlya found her armor and weapons, grateful to be able to change out of this infernal dress. Charlya only half heard Delphine’s contact say that she had to make her way towards Ambassador Elenwen’s private study to find the documents they needed as she secured her leather armor in place. Well, at least she knew where to look even if she didn’t fully know what it was.

Charlya crouched and slipped through the door without a word, staying within the shadows as much as she could. The room she stepped out into was much as she expected - deserted with only two guards. She drew her bow, notched an arrow and took aim at the closest Thalmor guard … then lowered her arm. Even with her vampiric reflexes, she wouldn’t be able to take both guards down before the other raised the alarm. No, she’d either have to slip past them … or deal with them separately. She reached out with her magicka, not enough to draw attention to her hiding spot, but enough to do what she needed to do. The sound of something moving in a different room drew their attention and one of the guards moved to investigate.

Charlya followed after the guard, always in the shadows, and waited for him to walk into the next room. Once the guard was out of sight from his fellow, Charlya made her move. She clamped a hand over his mouth to keep him from screaming as her fangs sank into his neck. Once he was nothing more than a bloodless husk, Charlya lowered him to the floor and stalked back over to the other guard. She took aim with her bow and fired, the arrow lodged itself in the Thalmor’s eye and he crumpled to the ground. She continued on her way, sneaking through the rooms and either avoiding the few guards that patrolled or killing them if there was no other way. Eventually she reached what she assumed was Elenwen’s office and study - it was far too guarded and decorated to be anything else. Now all she had to do was search the study for anything that might be of use to her or to Delphine. Which begged the question of where would it be?

Since Charlya knew that any information about the current situation about the dragons would need to be kept out of public view - even in a heavily fortified and guarded embassy - that left very few places to hide anything. Normally Charlya would have skipped over the safe tucked away in the corner of the room, and would have instead searched for other hidden areas. Yet something in the back of her mind told her that the arrogance of an Altmer wouldn’t let them have any other hidden places. Getting into the safe was far easier than she had expected it to be, which at this point really shouldn’t surprise. Afterall, the Atlmer’s sense of superiority and pride would keep them from being paranoid about someone getting into their secret documents. Charlya removed the documents within the safe, noticing there were three dossiers labeled, “ _ Dragons _ ”, “ _ Ulfric Stormcloak _ ”, and “ _ Esbern. _ ” She didn’t really have the time to look through them and see if they would help in their investigation, but Charlya supposed that if there was anything that Delphine wanted from the embassy, it would be these dossiers. Now all she had to do was figure out how to escape without going back through the party.

She made her way towards the exit of the building, intent on finding a way through the exterior of the embassy, when the door to the cellar caught her attention. Normally she would have given it no thought, yet the smell which assaulted her vampiric senses gave her pause. Charlya could clearly smell human blood, while she had to channel more power into her Vampiric senses, she could barely hear the heartbeat of a living being. Against her better judgement, she decided to investigate whatever was beyond that door. Unsurprisingly, it led down into a dungeon and Charlya didn’t need vampiric senses to know that the prisoners being held here had been tortured. Her eyes immediately honed in on the far corner - where the stench of blood was strongest - and where she could barely see the outline of a trapdoor. Because of course the Thalmor would want to dispose of the bodies once they outlived their usefulness. Which left her with a choice to make: ignore the prisoners and take the trapdoor and escape; or free the prisoners and risk detection?

Charlya restrained a sigh as she went to free the prisoners, cursing herself as she did so. She was a Vampire and she would never even dream about torturing her victims. She was just finishing freeing the last of the prisoners when a voice sounded from the door she had entered from, “We know you’re down here! Show yourself and we might be merciful!”

Charlya retreated further into the shadows, motioning for the prisoners to wait and hide. She notched an arrow and took aim, knowing she’d only have one shot before the other Thalmor guards converged on her position. Charlya was moving to new cover as the arrow was mid flight, and she had notched and fired another arrow as the first guard dropped to the floor. She was able to down one other guard before the other Thalmor were upon her, attacking with both blade and magic. Charlya answered in kind, drawing her dagger and lightning dancing between her fingertips. If not for her vampiric strength and reflexes, Charlya was sure the Thalmor would have overwhelmed her otherwise. Even so, she knew she had limited time before even more guards would show up and then she would truly be in trouble no matter how much blood she drank. She needed to end this quickly and there was only one way she could think of.

Charlya reached deep within herself, reaching for that ever present bloodlust which threatened to consume her. She felt it wash over her, nails elongated into claws and her lengthened fangs bared in an animalistic snarl. The bloodlust filled her with supernatural strength and she tore into the remaining Thalmor guards. Rending their flesh with her claws or gouging their throats with her fangs and drinking deep of their blood. One guard got a lucky shot in, impaling his blade in her stomach, yet it did not stop her in the least. Charlya pulled him close and sank her fangs into the Thalmor and drank, the wound in her stomach healing as she pulled the blade out of her body. The fighting was over just as quickly as it had begun and Charlya drew in deep breaths trying to calm herself. It took all of her self-control to fight the bloodlust back down deep within herself, telling herself that she was better than the feral vampires which often stalked the night.

With the bloodlust fully under control, Charlya turned on her heel and dropped down through the trapdoor, not even bothering to see if the prisoners would follow her. No sooner had she landed when she ducked beneath the claw of a cave troll - because of course the Thalmor were just cruel enough to feed it the bodies of their torture victums. She buried her dagger within its neck and set the body aflame just to be safe then strode out of the cave. The Dunmer Vampire closed her eyes and heard the prisoners running past her to their freedom, vaguely aware one of them muttering: “I’m through with Delphine” under their breath. At the mention of her ally’s name, Charlya groaned in annoyance, she should have been heading back to deliver the dossiers.

She rubbed at the bridge of her nose, exhaustion settling in and was immediately reminded of the fact she was covered in Thalmor blood. With a resigned sigh, she stalked down the mountainside, intent on finding the nearest stream to wash the blood and find somewhere to rest before heading back to Delphine. As she trekked down the mountain, her mind wandered back towards the Thalmor and the little she had learned from her infiltration. If her hands weren’t literally covered in blood, she would have paged through the dossiers she took. As it was, she could only speculate about them. The fact that they had one for the dragons wasn’t all that surprising, considering now the dragons seemed to be almost as common as the wolves which prowled the forests. The one about Ulfric wasn’t too surprising either, if she was being honest with herself, afterall, if she was in their position she’d want all the information she could gather about the rebellion’s leader. She was unaware of who Esbern was or why the Thalmor would have a dossier about him, maybe the name would mean something to Delphine.

Charlya glanced over her shoulder, barely seeing the embassy over the mountaintop, hoping that was the last time she’d run into the Thalmor. Though, knowing her divines-forsaken luck, it certainly wouldn’t be. Hopefully, they didn’t know it was her - or, if they did know, it would take them ages to track her down. Not that it really mattered to her if they did or didn’t, she’d deal with them if they ever confronted her.


End file.
